Adventures Of The Valve Universe
by ElderDragonSeige752
Summary: A story which will chronicle the daily events of the hapless RED team, and maybe even have some actual adventure along the way (But most likely not).


**Adventures Of The Valve Universe**

**Team Fortress 2 Edition**

**Big Trouble In Little Tuefort**

EldErDrAgOn$EigE: HEY All! I hAvE dEcidEd +O crEA+E A TF2 themed FAnfic.

Author: No One Cares.

EldErDrAgOn$EigE: HEY. YOu. $hu+. Up.

Author: In This Fanfic, You Will Find Not A Single Story, But A Collection Of Stories.

EldErDrAgOn$EigE: AlmO$+ All Of +hEm will hAvE OnE +o +hrEE $+Arring ChArAc+Er'$, which +hE Epi$OdE (Chapter) i$ bA$Ed ArOund.

Author: Without Further Ado, The Opening Episode!

It was a regular day in Tuefort. Two seemingly innocent (and not at all hidden mercenary base concealing) farms sat on opposite sides of a man made river, a rickety, hole ridden old wooden bridge the only thing connecting one side of the river to the other. Any normal person observing the quiet serene environment that both farms exuded would be lulled into a sense of security. One farm was painted blue, the other red. No one would suspect, however, that two separate groups of insane mercenaries were situated in each base. You see, each farm was actually a cover for a secret mercenary base, inside of which were the heavily guarded (And by that I mean Heavyly guarded) secret briefcases full of sensitive information (Mostly new hat ideas). Now, one could argue that it is a very poor idea for two opposing teams to build their respective bases within one hundred feet of on another. If one said that, however, they would receive a stern punch in the jaw from 's executive, Saxton Hale.

Now, I'm rambling. The point is, this story is focused around the RED team, or Reliable Excavation Demolition. You see, both teams, RED and BLU, are organizations who fight over strategic landmarks (Mostly Gravel Pits) RED stands for what I said before (I won't repeat myself) and BLU stands for Builder's League United. Both teams, while not very right in the head most of the time, at least have some sense of coordination. Each team wears the respective color that the acronyms of their teams spell out (Though BLU is missing it's "e".) RED was created by Redmond Mann, son of Zepheniah Mann and brother of Blutarch Mann. BLU, its counterpart, was created by heretofore explained other son of Zepheniah Mann. When Zepheniah began to travel and make business ventures under the infulence of his two sons, he was struck ill with every disease in the book. Seeing his son's treachery and tomfoolery, he used his own sagging, slogging skin to write his last will. If the two brothers could not get along, then they would spend the rest of their lives fighting over the useless gravel pits that they were so sure would replace oil as a fuel. So fight, they did.

-RED Base, Interior, Rec Room-

Anyway, we change perspective to show the inside of the RED base, a swirling, swiveling cacophony of stairwells and doors, and head to the common room, which houses the mercenaries at the moment. The first one, the Scout, is a thin, lithe Bostonian boy. He, being the youngest member on the team, has the least experience, but the loudest mouth, and the fastest legs. He likes to play baseball, and carries a ball and bat everywhere he goes. Among his arsenal are his bat (of course), a small, light pistol, and a short, easily portable shotgun, called a scattergun. He is, as previously mentioned, a loudmouth. He can't ever seem to keep his mouth shut, which is why he gets an equal amount of shots thrown his way from his own team as well as the enemy. He is bouncing a baseball against a wall, then running up to it and hitting it to the other side of the room. He ran to intercept it, and hit it back to the other side of the room, repeating this a multitude of times, until he was rudely tripped onto his face. He heard baritone snickering coming from the chair next to him. He stood up to look at his assailant, and lo, and behold, the Soldier, his outstretched foot a scant few inches from the Scouts. The Soldier is, well, a soldier. He is the only one of the team who actually tried to participate in a war, but was rejected (Multiple times, in fact). He is a helmet wearing, rocket jumping psycho who totes around a rocket launcher, a shotgun and an entrenching shovel. He is the one who creates the (half baked) plans and ideas for the next match. In essence, he is the unofficial leader of the RED team.

"Ay Pallie! D'You want me ta pound in ya skull Doe-boy?!". Scout said, irritated. "And WHAT, Exactly are you going to do, Twinkle Toes?!". Soldier shot back. "I'm gonna beat on ya skull til I hit tonsils!" Scout retaliated.

Soon, both mercs were engaged in a fierce grappling match. Pyro watched, amused, as the both of them fought with each other, fully knowing that Scout was all bravado, and wouldn't actually attack Soldier first, lest he be pronounced a commie, and get his neck wrung until he respawns. You see, when someone on each team-

" Bring it, Soldier!" Scout said as he interrupted me. Now where was I? Oh, yes, when someone on a team dies, their body is copied, and their soul is transported into the new-

"Take your lumps like a man!" Soldier said as I was interrupted again. Anyway, their body is copied, and their soul is transported into the new body when it regenerates. Until then, the –

" Take dat, haircut!" Scout interrupted again. At this, I got mad, and froze the frame until I was done. _**JEEZ**_. Anyway, their soul wander's the battlefield, usually tailing the one who killed him. Now, onto the pyro. The pyro is a mysterious creature. A fire suit clad monstrosity who carries a flamethrower. It's face is hidden behind a fire mask, and it's gender wholly unidentifiable. The soot in his lungs prevents her from speaking in clear sentences, but he does manage to get her point across. He carries a flamethrower, as well as a shotgun and a fire axe.

"Ymph Gyz nhmd th cht ih omh." She muttered. Seeing as no one heard or paid attention to him, she figured that Scout had hightailed it while I froze the story to explain the respawns and the Pyro. He got up, and walked over to her locker, pulling out a flare gun, and inspected it carefully. She put it back into its holster on his other suit, and then walked out of the room. Meanwhile, a large, armor clad form slumbered on one of the benches, his right arm slouched over the side of the bench, holding a brown glass bottle of caramel liquid. This is the Demoman, the team's demolitions expert and resident Black Scottish Cyclops. The Demoman, or Tavish Degroot, is a one-eyed, black and Scottish drunkard. He wears a bandolier of grenades, body armor and a skullcap. Why anyone lets him near anything that explodes is beyond me, but he does his job well, so no one complains.

Among his arsenal are his trusty grenade launcher, a stickybomb launcher, and of course, his bottle of scrumpy. (He also carries around one of the spies extra revolvers, but don't let the spy know that). He is currently sleeping, deep in a hard cider mini-coma. No one is going to disturb him, considering that today is the anniversary of the day that he lost his eye. The last time someone broke him of his scrumpy induced slumber on this day… well, let's just say that even respawning can't take the hunch out of the scout's back. Let's face it, a drunk, Scottish black Cyclops with a grenade launcher is a scary thing. A drunk, Scottish Black Cyclops with a grenade launcher and a mean hangover is just a nightmare. This was why today's battle had to be a quiet one. If the Demoman woke up, both teams were screwed.

Suddenly, and with great care, Heavy walked into the room, his large, bearlike frame engulfing the doorway. The Heavy, or Heavy Weapons Guy, is a large, bulky Russian, who, as the name suggests, uses a heavy weapon as his main. His minigun, which he affectionately refers to as "Sasha", is an absolutely monstrous lawnmower of a machine gun, which costs $12,000 to fire for 12 seconds. He is bald, and is quite big in the gut department, though it doesn't cut back his impeccable strength. The Heavy is quite a nice person when he isn't absolutely furious with Scout for stealing his sandviches.

Heavy looked over his shoulder, and then back at the Demoman.

"Leetle Bomb tosser is asleep. We will walk quiet.". He whispered to someone lingering just behind him, and, without waiting, began to tiptoe as best as a giant Russian man can, across the common room. Without the giant wall of a Russian human meat shield to block any incoming explosives, the Medic hustled across the room behind Heavy, keeping a wary eye on the near-comatose scot. The Medic is a German doctor/sadist who grew up in a time when the hypocritical oath was a hypocritical suggestion. With no medical license, he operates strictly under the radar, and has a not-so-easy-to-track medical career record. Despite this, Redmond Mann employed him to be the RED teams resident Medic. Although he views healing as an unintended side effect of healing, he, ironically, created the most effective healing device ever. The Medigun, an inconceivably brilliant device which can heal any injury (bar death), even destroyed or disintegrated limbs. Suddenly, one of the floor tiles, cracked from neglect and repeated abuse, gave way under the Heavy's immense weight, the Heavy's foot falling through the new hole in the floor.

Demo suddenly grunted, and shifted his weight a bit, the scrumpy bottle slipped out of his hand, and shattered on the floor, it's caramel contents spilling everywhere. Medic and Heavy held their breath as the drunken Scot slowly got up, and, with all the slow grace of a mountain gorilla on cocaine, slumped out of the rec room, and into the hallway. They looked at him in horror, until he walked through a stickybomb insignia'd door on the left side of the hallway. He slowly walked in, and then shut the door. Both Heavy and Medic gave a sigh of relief, before the Demoman poked his head back out of the doorway.

"Ey, yu… Dun ya go botherin me while ahm sleepin…". He bellowed out sluggishly. Both of the mercs exchanged a quick glance of fear, before giving him a mute, simultaneous head shake of agreement. He then poked his head back into the doorway, and closed the door with a click. Each merc looked at each other, before Medic turned to Heavy.

"Nein Heavy! Walk slowly!" Medic scolded him. "Dah. We will walk slower" Heavy replied. After five minutes of painfully slow and delicate tiptoeing, both mercenaries finally made it out of the door. They then hightailed it the hell out of there.

-RED Base, Interior, Intel Room-

We change the view to see the main intelligence room, in which sat a plastic hard hat wearing short man, fiddling with a rather hi-tech looking red box. The red light on the box was flashing haphazardly, and then a can of what looked to be beer rolled out onto the tray on the front of the box. This was the engineer, a short, rugged man from Bee Cave, Texas. He is probably the sanest man on the team (Just to put the spectrum in perspective, he cut off his own hand once, and then replaced it with a robo-hand[and a fork…thing]), and has many PhD's. He wears overalls, a rubber glove and a hardhat, and prefers to wield a shotgun, a pistol and a wrench. As an Engineer, he is highly skilled in the use, creation and upgrading of various mechanical weaponry and tools. One, the Sentry gun, as the name suggests, the Sentry gun is the sentinel of the base, forever watching and guarding the intelligence (at least, until a spy gets to it). The second, the Dispenser, as the name suggests, again, it is a dispenser of health and ammunition, as well as spare metal for even more contraptions. The third and fourth, and final, item, is the Teleporter. The Teleporter is actually two items, the Tele-entrance, and the Tele-exit. It can instantly transport one person from one part, to the other.

"Alrighty then. Jes need to make a few more adjustments… There we are!" He said triumphantly, as the Teleporter in front of him whirred back to life, both of the Teleporter projection ports on either side of the spinning bar began to emit a dim, red glow as the Teleporter began to spin. Slowly, speeding up as it made its rotations, until it created an entire, luminescent red disk of energy on top of the spinning bar. Engie smiled lightly, and then took a big sip from the beer can the dispenser had created for him.

"Now that's some fine work right there!" He said to himself. He then walked over to the intercom on the desk, and pressed the button. A crackling, whiny sound pulsed from the radio as it blurted to life, making the Engineer grimace as the sound assaulted his ears. Nevertheless, he had to report his success to his helmet wearing leader.

"Howdy Pardner." He said into the intercom. A long time ago, after the intercom had been blown to smithereens by soldier because he had been startled by it, and thought it was a spy, Engie had made everyone have code words to say before speaking, lest he have to rip out the walls of the base and re-wire the intercom again.

"I fixed the Teleporter in the Intel room." He said. The only response he got was a loud, faraway sounding crash on the other side of the intercom, and then a loud, Bostonian manly yell (wimpy Shriek) of pain. Afterward, Soldier shouted something at the downed Scout.

"Hahahaha! And now General Rocketeer will perform his signature move; The Crit Rocket Elbow Drop!" He stated loudly. "Nononono-!" Scout began to say, before he was cut off by said Crit Rocket Elbow Drop to the gut. Another manly (girly) yell (scream) came from Scout. "One! Two! Three! Ding Ding Ding!" Soldier bellowed loudly. "General Rocketeer Defeats Bonk Boy for the RED fortress championship!" He yelled proudly. Engie just shook his head. Heavy would be mad when he found out that General Rocketeer and Bonk Boy had Stolen his- I mean 'The War Bear's', Title belt.

"Solly!" He yelled, finally catching the other's attention. Soldier walked over to the intercom, and pressed the button on his end. "What now Engie?! Can't you see that General Rocketeer just successfully defended the title from Bonk Boy?!" He stated irately. "No, Solly. No, I can't." He stated blankly. This was going to be a long day.

The Sniper sat in his crow's nest on the balcony, resting up before the fight. He had just finished filling a jar with… erm… Jarate. The Sniper is an Australian… Sniper. His name is Lawrence Mundy. He is very tall, and wears a hunter's hat, walking shoes and aviators. He carries a sniper rifle (obviously), a Submachine gun, and a specialized hacking sword called a Kukri. He was currently reclining on one side of the balcony, his long legs lolling haphazardly out of the opening that used to be a window, but was destroyed and just not important enough to replace. He began to clean his sniper rifle, before looking around through the scope, to check if it was still clear. He swiveled his head around the area, before landing on the spy, who had appeared out of nowhere. Sniper, startled, backed up suddenly, and fell out of the window. Spy looked down in amusement, seeing that Sniper's rifle had fallen down with him, and had effectively pierced through his entire abdomen, the barrel sticking out of his chest and fountaining blood out of his body. Spy began to laugh hysterically as he watched sniper's body fade out into respawns, his rifle slumping to the ground, caked with blood.

Spy is a French… spy. He is a suit wearing, ski-mask donning self-proclaimed 'Handsome rogue', who prefers to stab and deceive rather than to explode and shoot. He carries a revolver, sapper, butterfly knife, cloaking watch and disguise kit with him into battle.

"You stupid Bushman." He said to himself, his snorts of laughter no dying down to small chuckles. He knew that Sniper would be back soon, so he had to run fast, because he really wasn't in the mood for a kukri to the neck. Cloaking, he dangled off of the ledge, before letting himself fall down to the ground, somehow not breaking all of the bones in his slim legs.

(Time skip, approx. 3 hours)

The battle was looming down upon them, and both teams were decidedly nervous. They were each playing to get the others single briefcase. RED was down one Demoman, and both teams had to be as quiet as possible, unless he would rouse himself from his scrumpy induced slumber, and then there would be all hell to pay. Scout had busied himself by wrapping and unwrapping the cloth on his hands repeatedly, Solly was cleaning the rockets for his launcher, claiming that the 'commie grime scum would not ruin his performance'. Pyro was speed eating sandviches without removing her mask, a fact which caused Medic to rethink his life. Seriously, he was just placing the sandvich up to her mask, and then a chunk of it disappeared. It was like he was so fast, no one saw her take off his mask. Heavy was consoling Medic, who had gone to cry in the corner about this blatant violation of all known physics.

"I just don't understand." Medic whined blankly. "Heavy does not understand either, little Medic. But we must capture intelligence. Charge medigun now." Heavy stated.

"Mission begins in thirty seconds." The administrator's harsh, shrill voice rung out over the intercom, earning more than a few irritated glares. Engie was once again fiddling with his Sentry Gun, checking to make sure that it was in working order, and well oiled. Sniper was already in his crow's nest, his rifle aimed at the opposite balcony. Spy was somewhere in the sewers, cloaked, and ready to infiltrate the BLU base. "Eh, hardhat?" A voice sounded behind Engie. Engie turned around, and saw Scout looking at him. "What'dya want now, string bean?" Engie said to him. "Uh.. I just think that, uh.. I should stay back e're, ya know, ta make sure dat da Demoman don't wake up and kick all our asses." He said sheepishly. Engie looked at him for a second, before letting out a small chuckle. "Nah, boy. Yer far too valuable at this sorta thing to just stay back and guard." He told him. Scout looked at him in disdain, before grumbling back to his position at the door. "Mission begins in ten seconds." The administrator spoke over the intercom. This was it. All or nothing. They either got the BLU teams Intel, or they lost theirs. They neither knew what was in the intelligence briefcase, or why it was so damn valuable, but they knew that they were getting paid literally millions of dollars to guard it, so they didn't ask. The Administrator began to count down the seconds to the beginning of the mission. "-Five. Four. Three. Two. One." And with that, the battle started. Each offensive class merc rushed out of the doorway, while the defensive mercs ran to their respective territories. Engie Teleported to the Intel room, and set up his Sentry nest. Heavy chucked Medic, who was still a bit Mentally defunct after seeing Pyro eat without taking off his mask, over his shoulder. Solly ran directly through the front entrance, and was subsequently pegged in the knee by the BLU Sniper. He hobbled back into RED base, and told Scout to get to it. Scout mock saluted, and jumped onto the roof of the bridge, and hopped up onto the BLU balcony, dodging a sniper bullet, and bashing BLU Snipers head. He dashed through the BLU base, foregoing attacking anyone, and just dashing past any BLU merc he saw. BLU Demoman launched a grenade at him, and he batted it back at him. The grenade promptly exploded in his face. He ran down the spiral staircase after being slugged with a shotgun blast. He grabbed the medkit quickly, allowing the pills to numb the pain in his abdomen. The BLU Scout ran around the corner, and Scout pulled out his scattergun, and gave him an effective shotgun headache. He ran faster down the corridor, spurred by the whirring of a minigun right behind him. Bullets whizzed past his head and into his left arm as he ran for his life, frantically moving his legs faster than his body. He rounded the last corner and the last flight of stairs, clutching his left arm, and then ran down the hallway leading to the Intel room. He stopped to grab another medkit, healing his damaged arm. He then ran into the Intel room, and, seeing no one, grabbed the Intel and strapped it to his back. "RED team has captured "BLU team's Intelligence. BLU team, **kill him!**" The administrator yelled over the intercom harshly. Scout ran faster than before now, he knew that each member of each team had a chip implanted in their brain that tracked the briefcases. He was essentially, a moving target.

Meanwhile, outside, a stray rocket was fired by the BLU soldier at the RED Pyro, which was airblasted, and slowly flew back towards RED base. Scout, meanwhile, had escaped the clutches of BLU base, and celebrated his freedom by looking towards the sky. He saw the stray rocket heading straight for the Demoman's window. His eyes drastically widened, and he shouted with manic terror. "Ay, You Guys! Dat rocket is headin Straight fer da Demoman's window!" He yelled. At this, all sounds of gunfire and fighting stopped. Every single head turned towards the rocket, and all of their pulses quickened. Everyone who was outside watched in sheer terror as the rocket screeched through the window, and then exploded inside the room. Each and every merc present went pale when the explosion rocked RED base, and then, silence. Time ticked by, agonizingly slowly, each second feeling like an hour. Finally, the door of the RED base entrance came flying off of its hinges, a boot clad foot behind it. When the smoke cleared, the scene was not a pretty one. A blood stained, red eyed Hurricane of Black Scottish fury stood in the doorway, a large, menacing axe hefted behind his head. The axe itself had a creepy grin etched into the blade, and it seemed to glow with a deep, purpled menace. All of the mercs, forgetting their previous brawls, ran like scared babies. A deep, eerie laugh emanated from the bomb maker, which sounded just like a demon crossed with Saxton Hale himself. He raced across the bridge, each step leaving purple fire burning into the wood.

"_**Ahm**__** GUNNA KILL YE ALL!**_" He yelled in a deep, terrorizing voice, scaring the living hell out of the Scout, who had suddenly forgotten how to move. He only said one thing before the Scotsman from hell reached him. "Aww crap."

"RED has dropped the BLU Intelligence briefcase!" The administrator yelled harshly over the intercom. Slowly, but surely, as each merc split up on their own, they were all hunted down and slaughtered mercilessly. First, RED soldier and BLU Medic were both beheaded at the same time, under the BLU teams stairwell. BLU Pyro and RED engie threw themselves off of the bridge, and accidently into the waiting axe of the Demo(_**n**_)man. BLU Scout and BLU Heavy drowned in the river when the possessed Demoman hit them in the back of their heads with the back of his axe. This continued until only the RED Spy was left on the battlefield. The other mercs refused to go back on the battlefield, lest they be beheaded. Spy had, in his wrecked train of thought, grabbed the BLU briefcase, and was now running down the RED spiral stairs with it, the Demo(_**n)**_man swinging his axe closer and closer to him every second. The blade giving him an unwanted shave on the back of his neck spurred him to move just that extra inch to slam himself down the stairs. He ran down the hallway, and threw himself into the capture zone. "RED has captured the enemy intelligence. RED wins! BLU, you fail!" The administrator yelled with manic glee. Spy had no time to think of his victory, as he was beheaded before he could get up. Right after, Demo(_**n**_)man snapped out of his bloodlust induced rage state, and passed out on the floor. Afterward, Engie and Solly locked up the Headtaker in a safe vault, so Demo couldn't get to it if he got this mad again. For the rest of the day, everyone gave a wide berth to the bomb throwing Scotsman. He, however, had no idea what they were doing, and even later, he called them all to the Intel room to open the briefcase.

(Time skip, approx. 2, 1/2 hours)

As they all gathered round the blue briefcase, each one of them gave their own speculation. "I bet it's just more packets a gravel." Scout said nonchalantly. "I bet it's a brand new shiny boot to shove up BLU's sorry ass!" Solly yelled. "I tmhk thht ih chmlm bh blhmphmnms." Pyro stated. "Heavy thinks dat it is new sandvich!" Heavy yelled boisterously. "I'm willin ta bet that it's blueprints." Engie said. "Thmht's whmt I shmd!" Pyro said angrily. "I zink zat it will be more medical equipment." Medic said. "I don't give a shi-" Spy started, before he was shoved to the side by Demoman, who decided then and there to to break the fourth wall and grab the camera. He then swiveled it to look at the briefcase. He pulled out a cell phone, and pressed a button which had a lambda (The Half Life and Half Life 2 logo) on it. Shortly afterward, a lambda shaped portal appeared out of nowhere, and a bespectacled, suit clad man poked his head out. He held out a crowbar, and passed it to Demoman. "Aye, thanks Gordon!" Demo said to the man, who was apparently named Gordon. Gordon simply pulled his head back into the portal, which closed shortly thereafter. Everyone in the room decided that then was the time for their brains to shut down for just long enough to ignore everything that just happened. "Ay, Demo, where'd ya get da crowbar?" Scout said. "Wha? D'ye mean that ye didn't jes see… nevermind, lets jes crack this puppy open." He then slammed the hooked end of the crowbar into the lock on the briefcase. The lock popped open and revealed one of the most delightful and amazing things the mercs had ever seen. It was a beret, which was dark black in color. "BLACK PAINTED BILLS!" Heavy yelled. Each merc grabbed frantically at the hat, groping the smooth material in their hands. "I wun it!" Demo yelled out suddenly, his voice booming out among the rest, and his remaining eye glowing red. Every merc instantly let go of the hat, and let the Demoman pick it up and place it on his head. His eye returned to its natural state, and he nonchalantly looked at everyone, as though he had no idea what they were scared about. Even a rare hat that was painted black wouldn't make them challenge the Demoman on this day again. "Le's go rub this in BLU's faces, eh?" the Demoman said. Everyone quickly agreed, and then rushed frantically away from the Scotsman to find their respective counterparts. No one saw, however, the dark red glow that again began to emanate from the Demoman's eye. He let out a dark, bone chilling chuckle." **YA BLEEDIN IDIOTS. YE'LL ALL BE MAH BLOODY CATTLE SOON ENOUGH.**

EldErDrAgOn$EigE: HOw wA$ =hE fir$+ Epi$OdE of 'The Adventures Of The Valve Universe Tf2 Edition.'

Author: Suckish.

EldErDrAgOn$EigE: F&%k YOu.

(If you have anything to say, anything at all, leave a review, I love criticism. It's the only way to get better. P.S, to the first review of this story, an anonymous guest, I rewrote this story according to your criticisms. I hope it makes this better.)


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